High on a Mountain
by Nellie Potter
Summary: "Four graves, thousands of tears, millions of questions. How had it come to this?" Sequel to "The Demon Daughter of Fleet Street"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:Well, here it is. The new and improved version of High on a Mountain. I shall not be updating until I complete "Just Breathe" which shan't take me much longer.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd**

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><p>Four graves, thousands of tears, millions of questions. How had it come to this? Everything was going so well. The Damons were such a great family, and I of all people should know this more than anyone else. What did they do to deserve such a horrible fate? As prayers were being whispered, I flashed back.<p>

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><p>"Mum? Dad?" I called out into the Damon home. "Colby? Joanne? Is anyone home?" Colby then bounded out of his room.<p>

"Jamie!" he exclaimed excitedly as he tightly hugged me. I smiled brightly and hugged him back. It was odd; when we first met, he was a lot older than me, by about six years, and he was Toby Ragg at the time. Now he was Colby Damon, fourteen again and I was sixteen and like sister and brother. We released each other from our embrace as Joanne stepped onto the scene.

"Hey Jamie," she greeted with a warm, classic Johanna (now Joanne) smile. "What brings you here?"

I shrugged, "Just wanted to say hi. What's new?" I questioned the sixteen year old. We weren't exactly the best of friends, but I was sure that would change once school started.

Johanna sighed, running her fingers through her long, blonde hair. "Thinking about getting a haircut, what do you think?"

I grinned, "I think you're starting to act like a girl from this century finally." It had taken some time, but I finally managed to teach Johanna to act like a normal teenager from the twenty-first century instead of one from the nineteenth century. Toby had adjusted a bit easier and Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett, well, I lived with them for a year so they already picked up a thing or two. "Are mum and dad home?" I asked. Yes, I still called them mum and dad. They were the ones to raise me for about a year, and they were already dead so they couldn't die like my real parents and brother did.

About a millisecond later, Mrs. Lovett, now Mrs. Damon walked in with a manila folder in her hand, a few papers falling out. It seemed so strange to see her the way she looked. The bright yellow and white knee length, spaghetti straps dress she wore was much different than her usual dark attire. "Jamie!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She set down the folder on the coffee table and hugged me tightly.

"Hi mum," I said, feeling a bit suffocated from the hug. Mum sensed this and released me_. _It was rather funny; her smile was even the same. The Damons never changed, though I guess that's jumping to conclusions. They've been here only a few weeks of this summer.

"So tell me love, 'ow've ya been?" she asked, picking up the folder again and making sure the papers didn't fall out. I shrugged.

"Oh ya know same old same old." That was about it. Nothing had really changed about me except for the getting older thing. The sound of footsteps that was neither mine, Toby's, Johanna's, nor Mrs. Lovett's caught my attention. I turned and came face to face with the one, the only, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street!

"Hey, dad," I said quietly, unsure of what mood he was in. It was always so hard to tell with Sweeney. He just gave me a curt nod and walked over to the couch and sat down. I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic to see you too," my voice dripped with sarcasm and Sweeney gave me a death glare. He's not one for sarcasm (in case you couldn't tell).

"Don't worry 'bout 'im love," Mrs. Lovett assured me as she walked past to go back to her office. Who would've thought that Mrs. Lovett, the demon baker that once helped get rid of Sweeney Todd's victims, would make a good realtor? I certainly never did. "Jus' a little moody is all."

I looked over to Sweeney again. He appeared like he always did, mad at the world, never forgiving those who ruined his life and never forgetting his awful past. I traipsed over to him and sat next to him on the couch. "You need to learn to lighten up sometimes, ya know that?" I nudged his side with my elbow. This earned me a glare. I put up my hands in defeat. "Hey, okay, act all bitchy." This earned me not a glare, but a small smirk. Eh, good enough.

"What brings you here?" Sweeney asked, for he did not hear Johanna ask the same thing just moments before.

"Just wanted to say hello," I explained yet again. "Am I gonna get a hug or something?" I teased. Exhaling roughly, Sweeney put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close for a moment. That was what we classified as a hug. Better than having my throat slit. Mrs. Lovett stepped back into the room.

"So Jamie, would ya like to stay for dinner?"

I grinned. "I'd love to."

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><p>That was just two days ago. I wiped away the tears that had escaped. I didn't want to believe this was happening, I didn't want to believe that the Damons, my best friends, my family, were being lowered into the ground at that very moment.<p>

Nobody thought anything of it when the Damons disappeared for a little while. They weren't antisocial, just not as social as most people. But after a day, I'd noticed something was up and went to pay them another visit, only to discover that their door was unlocked and their lifeless bodies were on the floor.

The coroner had said that it was a freak accident. That the gas in the gas fireplace had been left on, but the flame never lit. Just like Cole and the gas stove. But the only thing was, Cole's death was a freak accident. I knew what a freak accident was and the death of the Damons was no accident.

I couldn't say anything, no one would believe me. But I knew the truth. I knew the Damons had been murdered. Trouble was, by who?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The Reviews are greatly appreciated! thanks for the support!**

**Disclaimer: Yup don't own.**

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><p>I breathed deeply and closed my eyes for a few moments, leaning up against Cole's headstone. He was in the same cemetery as the Damons. Why couldn't it have been me or someone else? Why a whole family? It seemed that I was not meant to have family. Mom was killed, dad committed suicide, Cole was gas-poisoned and now the Damons were dead. Dead, dead, dead, I was surrounded by death. Now I could only hope that Aunt Bella wouldn't be next.<p>

I refused to believe that the Damons just dropped dead. They were practical people; they wouldn't be as insolent as to let the gas from the gas-fireplace fill their house and lungs. But yet, all the evidence pointed towards it. Still… perhaps I just didn't want to believe my second family was dead. I heard the rustling of a few dead leaves, but thought nothing of it. I focused on the task at hand: figuring what really happened to the Damons.

More rustling, just more annoying noise really. I tried tuning it out, but found that to be very difficult as the noise grew closer. Unable to ignore it any longer, I stood up from the ground. Much to my relief and partly to my chagrin, it was Aunt Bella.

"Hey kiddo," she said quietly as she walked over to me, hands in the pocket of her zip-up hoodie. "How's it going?" I could practically read "Sympathy" on her forehead. Well I didn't need sympathy; I was sixteen and could take care of myself.

"Pretty good," I shrugged, "mulling over things," more of trying to investigate really. Though everything added up, something still didn't make sense. The Damons wouldn't let themselves leave this place so easily. Aunt Bella sighed.

"Jamie love, it's not good to dwell on these things." I felt my mood darken. Aunt Bella called me 'love'. That was what Mrs. Lovett called me; only Mrs. Lovett. I stood up from the ground, brushing off my jeans. A few dead leaves crunched under my feet; autumn was drawing nearer.

"Jamie," Aunt Bella called after me as I started my walk home. "Please don't be like this," she quietly begged. I knew what she meant. Don't be moody like this; don't distance myself from the world like this. But it was something I just couldn't help. It was who I was; distant and moody.

I stopped my walking and turned on my heels to face Aunt Bella once more. "I need to go back," I told her, more than sure she had no clue what I was talking about. "Back home I mean," I elaborated. "I need to go back to Fleet Street."

Aunt Bella stared at me blankly. I guess it did sound sort of insane when spoken aloud. I wanted to go back to the used-to-be haunted pie shop on Fleet Street. But I did, it was home. It was more of a home than when I had a home with my parents and Cole. After mom and dad died, our home was sort of broken.

"I'm sorry Jamie- you what?" Aunt Bella slightly leaned in, wanting to make sure that she heard me wrong. Never breaking my gaze from her eyes, I repeated.

"I want to go back to Fleet Street." Truth be told, I had an odd feeling about it, like I would find something there. Something important, maybe even a clue as to what really caused the death of the Damons.

Aunt Bella opened her mouth to argue with me, but saw no use. She knew how I was: stubborn. When my mind was made up, it took a lot of time and a good persuading argument to convince me to change my mind.

"Fine," she sighed, putting her hands back in her pockets. "Fine I'll drive you there tomorrow." That sounded like a good plan, except for the tomorrow part.

I shook my head in disagreement. "No, tonight, you'll drive me there tonight," I insisted. It had to be tonight. Aunt Bella was becoming a little fed up with my antics but because my close friends died, she was just being nice. I could tell. Cole was the same way when mom and dad died. Always took it easy around me, if I didn't want to do homework he wouldn't force me to. Even the teachers were being wary and it was rather annoying. But this time I would use it to my full advantage.

"Very well, I'll bring you back to Fleet Street tonight." And with that, Aunt Bella walked away and I could let out my happiness.

I was going home! 186 Fleet Street would soon be in my view. I could almost smell the musty scent of the old pie shop mixed in with the aroma of dried blood… hm, now that I think about it, perhaps growing up on Fleet Street for a year wasn't very… healthy. But home was home and I couldn't wait to go back.

My feet pounded against the ground as I ran back to Aunt Bella's house. I was going to burst into my room but that sort of backfired. My door was closed all of the way, unlike what I had thought and crashed into the door. "Ow," I moaned, rubbing my forehead. That was the second time that week that had happened. I opened my door properly and stepped inside my room.

I reached for my suitcase that was placed under my bed. I wasn't just planning on going to Fleet Street; I was going to stay for a few days. I tossed random, most likely not matching clothes into my suitcase and zipped it up.

"I'll be in the car!" I shouted into the house and dashed to the vehicle, taking my place in the front seat after tossing my suitcase in the back. Minutes later, Aunt Bella got into the driver's seat and we headed out.

The ride couldn't have seemed longer. I did everything I could to keep myself entertained. I blasted the radio, listened to my iPod, stared out the window absent-mindedly. Finally, after what seemed like years of traveling in the car, we arrived.

"I don't understand what this will accomplish," Aunt Bella sighed, about to get out of the car.

"You can wait here," I stopped her. She wouldn't listen to me though.

"No that's alright; I want to see the place you lived in for a year. How on earth you managed to do that, I'll never know." She muttered the last part, but I heard her loud and clear, taking a bit of offensive. Did she think me incapable of such responsibilities? Feeling a tad bit offended, I stepped up to the pie shop door. This was it; I was going to see what this place looked like after not being here for a year. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, smiling faintly as the bell dinged like it always did.

Memories came flooding back to me. Me first stepping into the place, meeting Mrs. Lovett for the first time, meeting Sweeney for the first time, Eric Hope coming over and finding out who my adoptive parents were. Everything, good and bad, came back to mind.

_These are my friends, see how they glisten_

_See this one shine, how he smiles in the light_

_My friend, my faithful friend_

I glanced around. I could have sworn I heard a voice sing. It sounded like Sweeney. But that was quite impossible seeing how he was dead.

_I'm your friend too Mr. Todd_

_If you only knew Mr. Todd_

_Ooh, Mr. Todd you're warm in my hand_

There it was again, the singing. Only this time, it was Mrs. Lovett's voice that I had heard. Still, they were both dead, for real this time. I was probably just reminiscing a little too much. At least that's what I hoped.

Aunt Bella stayed put by the door. The place seemed to terrify her. I didn't blame her, this place was supposedly haunted. Actually I know for a fact it was haunted, I met the ghosts themselves. Floorboards creaked underneath my feet as I stepped back outside and went up the barber shop stairs.

The bell tingled like the one in the pie shop did; only it seemed less cheerful. Like the demon barber himself. I shook my head, not wanting to think about that at the moment for the pain was too much to handle. My mind was quickly distracted from thoughts of Sweeney because of what was going on in the barber shop.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Surely this was just a hallucination! I didn't want to believe it, but some part of me did. No, this couldn't actually be happening. Before me, Sweeney was facing the window, kneeling with Mrs. Lovett behind him with a hand on his shoulder. This just couldn't be real.

Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney were back.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been awhile and if it's crap, school is really biting me in the ass. And I have to write another fanfiction because a friend of mine requested it. However, I won't be posting it for a while. **

**Disclaimer: I think the whole world knows I don't own Sweeney Todd**

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><p>I watched the whole scene unfold. Sweeney was done singing to his friends and Mrs. Lovett walked away from the barber when he told her to do so. She stood up with a sigh and started heading towards the door.<p>

"Mrs. Lovett!" I called out to the baker, who just kept ignoring me. She actually pushed past me and went down the steps. I was becoming increasingly frustrated. Why was she acting like I didn't exist?

Sweeney just kept going about his business. With my mouth agape, I backed out of the shop, running down the stairs. I stopped immediately when I saw that Mrs. Lovett wasn't around anymore, as if she vanished in thin air. This was so strange. Perhaps I did something, hit my head and not realised it. I burst into the pie shop, wanting to tell Aunt Bella about what I had just seen. I stopped short though.

What was I thinking? I couldn't tell Aunt Bella this! What would I say, the Damons were really Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett and Joanne and Colby were Johanna and Toby reincarnated? And now they're back from the dead yet again? I'd be sent off to an asylum!

"Ready to go?" I was asked as I came into Aunt Bella's view. I suspected that the place made her feel uneasy, as it did to just about anyone who dared to enter.

I shook my head in response. "I'm going to stay here for a few days," I told her, my tone of voice daring her to tell me otherwise.

Aunt Bella opened her mouth to tell me that my choice was not acceptable. Seeing the look in my eyes stopped her though. I was serious about this.

"Fine," she sighed, clearly giving up on trying changing my mind. I raced out to the car and grabbed my overnight bag. I bade Aunt Bella farewell and she left, shaking her head as she pulled away from the shop and sped off home. She was probably pissed off that I was rebelling in a way, but it wasn't her choice as to what I did and I intended to solve the Damon case.

An eerie silence washed over the place. I got an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt like I was alone, but not completely, like someone was watching me. Taking my time, I went back upstairs, only to find the barber's shop completely empty save for the barber's chair.

I was convinced I saw Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett. Something very strange was going on and it bothered me. Was I just nutter? Was that it? That must've been the answer; I hallucinated. I supposed that I missed them so much that I imagined them.

"Hush little Johanna, hush. Your father will be home soon, I promise," I heard a faint voice of a female say from behind me. My stomach tightened in fear. It didn't sound like Mrs. Lovett, the voice was unfamiliar. I dared to turn around to be met with the sight of a pretty blonde woman in a Victorian styled dress, muttering incoherent things to herself.

"Um, hello?" I raised an eyebrow in confusion. She looked a little familiar, as if I had seen her in a picture or something… an idea struck me as to who she might be, but no, there was no possible way that it could be, "Lucy?"

She nodded and smiled, as if glad someone finally recognized her. "Yes," she responded. "Yes, I am Lucy Barker. You are Jamie, correct?"

I nodded slowly. How did she know my name? "You're aunt was muttering things to herself, occasionally tossing her name around. I could only assume that was you," Lucy continued as if reading my mind. "May I ask why you're here?"

"Uh, well, my neighbors… family, were found dead not too long ago. Everyone said it was an accident, but I know for a fact that it wasn't." Why on earth was I explaining this to a ghost? Especially to Lucy, Benjamin Barker's wife! Did she know he became Sweeney Todd? "I came here to see if there was anything that could prove I was right."

Lucy's brow furrowed as she took in all of this new information. "You're neighbors… who were they may I ask?"

"The Damons," I answered. I couldn't tell her who they really were. I felt that by doing that, it would be inconsiderate seeing as Lucy was married to Benjamin, who became Sweeney who then was married to Mrs. Lovett when they were reincarnated.

"Ah yes, the Damons." I froze. They way she said it, it sounded like Lucy knew who the Damons were. "Ben, Nellie, Colby and Joanne, correct?" She did know! As if reading my thoughts yet again, Lucy smiled knowingly. "It's hard not to recognize the face of a man whom you've loved," she explained, heartbreak in her voice. She had lost Benjamin, and I couldn't help but feel bad.

"How long have you been here?" I blurted out, dying to know the answer. It occurred to me that Lucy may have been at the pie shop the whole entire time since she died and just never made herself visible. Ghosts had an annoying tendency to do that.

"Not very long, perhaps just a few days at the most," Lucy replied, her voice distant as she looked out the window. She looked back to me and her distant look was replaced with a smile. "I know what you're here for Jamie; it's only too obvious, especially to a ghost. And I would like to help you if you'd let me."

Why would she want to help me? Her husband was married to another woman now, or used to be at least. I knew for a fact that if I were once married and my husband married someone else, I wouldn't be willing to help any situation that involved him. But Lucy seemed different, caring. She really wanted to help. With a sigh, I said, "I'd appreciate it if you'd help me Lucy." The question was: where to begin? "Now we just need to find where to start investigating."

Lucy smiled brightly. "I know exactly where to start." She began to leave the barber shop and I followed. Lucy opened the door and allowed me to go ahead of her. Smiling, I began walking down the steps.

Suddenly, I felt pressure being put on my back and then a sharp pain in my head. Lucy had pushed me, but before this thought could register, I blacked out.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know the last chapter hardly made any sense and I'm sorry to say, neither does this one. But it will in the next chapter I promise! It just didn't want this chapter to drag on and on and it seemed to be doing that. So next chapter, it will all be explained.**

**Disclaimer: see previous disclaimer**

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><p>When I finally came around, my head was throbbing and my back ached greatly. My vision remained blurred for many minutes and when it cleared, I saw where I was. It startled me to see that I was no longer outside where I blacked out, but in the pie shop. Lucy appeared next to me, looking very nonchalant.<p>

"Why the hell did you push me down the stairs?" I demanded loudly. Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise because of my language, but said nothing about it.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "but it was necessary." Necessary? How the hell is pushing anyone down the stairs necessary? Ow, even thinking hurt. For the first time, I actually looked around the shop. something was different about it. It was duller, dreary, yet at the same time had the feeling of life, unlike how it felt the very first time I stepped into the place two years ago.

Humming could be heard from the parlor and I froze. That voice, I knew that voice anywhere. But it couldn't be. She was dead; Nellie was dead! This was why I jumped in shock when the baker entered into the pie shop. "Holy shit," I breathed, but Mrs. Lovett just kept going on about her business, as if Lucy and I weren't there. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed louder, but again I went unnoticed. What the hell was going on?

Lucy smiled sympathetically. "She can't hear or see you," she explained.

I raised my eyebrows. "So it's like I'm the ghost this time?" Well this certainly was interesting. Curious, I stood up for the booth and walked over to the baker, who attempted to make another pie. I waved my hands in front of her face, shouted in her ear, but no reaction. "Wow this really sucks," I commented, crossing my arms and sitting back down.

"Don't fret, you'll more than likely get use to it," Lucy assured me, but I found that piece of information hard to believe. Lucy didn't know me well enough to say such a thing.

Suddenly, I felt rather panicked. I was the ghost this time. So did that mean, "I'm dead?" I asked. I mean, Lucy did push me down the stairs, though I have no clue why.

Lucy chuckled lightly and shook her head. "No Jamie, you're not dead. I wouldn't dare kill an innocent person." Lucy then paused, watching Mrs. Lovett intently, as if watching the baker attempt to make pies was the most interesting thing in the world.

Something still confused me though. How was Mrs. Lovett here? Was she a ghost again? And if she was, wouldn't that mean that she'd be able to see me? She clearly didn't and didn't hear me either. Before I could ask Lucy anything else, the door to the pie shop was opened, the bells chiming. In stepped the infamous Sweeney Todd.

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open. Next to me, Lucy vanished and I was alone with the demon barber and baker. It was like old times, except for the fact that I could neither be seen nor heard.

Mrs. Lovett gasped as she saw Sweeney, as if looking at him for the first time. "A customer!" she exclaimed excitedly and I immobilized one more. Those words, the way she said them, they were from the first time Sweeney walked into her shop. But that meant…

With my eyes still wide, I turned to look out the window. The sight was indescribable. People passed by the shop, not giving it a second glance. The men dressed formerly, wearing ties and trousers, and every woman and girl wore a dress. Everything was so gloomy and had the feel of old fashioned.

That's when it clicked. I was back in time in the year 1847, the day Sweeney Todd first came to Mrs. Lovett's pie shop after fifteen years of being imprisoned in Australia.

As Mrs. Lovett directed Sweeney to a seat, he noticed me, actually noticed me, very much unlike Mrs. Lovett.

"Can you see me?" I asked quietly, just double checking to make sure he was really looking at me instead of past me or at something else. Sweeney nodded, looking at my clothes. They must've looked incredibly odd to him. But no, that wasn't it.

"Jamie?" he questioned and I couldn't have felt happier. He saw me, heard me, and even knew who I was! I nodded vigorously, a wide smile spread on my face.

"Wot was tha'?" Mrs. Lovett asked Sweeney, having had heard him say my name. Sweeney looked over to her and shook his head, silently telling her to just forget about it. Mrs. Lovett simply shrugged and went on about her business as Sweeney glared at the pie in front of him.

"Psst," I whispered to Sweeney. He moved his gaze to me, quickly glancing at Mrs. Lovett to make sure she wasn't looking.

"What?" he asked quietly, his voice still harsh like it always was.

"How do you know it's me?" I questioned him. It seemed that he was the only one that could see me, which made sense as to why Lucy disappeared. "What I mean is how do you remember who I am?"

"Let's not talk about this right now," he said through partially gritted teeth, doing his best to keep his voice low. This time, Mrs. Lovett looked up and Sweeney quickly grabbed the mug of ale, taking a sip.

"Trust me dearie, It's gonna take a lot more than ale to wash the taste out," Mrs. Lovett commented, moving away from the counter. If Mrs. Lovett spoke those words exactly as she had before, then I knew what was coming next. Sure enough, Mrs. Lovett offered to get Sweeney some gin, and he followed her into the parlor.

Sweeney sat in a chair, his tumbler of gin in hand as he stared blankly into the fireplace, the flames reflected in his dark eyes.

"You've a room over the shop. Times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?"

"Wot, up there?" Mrs. Lovett glanced up to the ceiling, putting away the gin bottle as she did so. "No one'll go near it. People think it's haunted. Ya see, years ago, something happened up there, something not very nice." And she plunged into the tale of what happened between Lucy and Judge Turpin.

The awful scene played out in my head. The Judge cornering a semi-drunken Lucy, the other guests gathering around and laughing at the horrid sight of Turpin raping Lucy Barker; I shook my head, clearing it of the wretched images. Sweeney's shouting helped.

"No!" he exclaimed, standing up from the chair he was seated at. A bit of gin sloshed over the side of his glass. "Would no one have mercy on her?" he asked absent-mindedly. There was something in Sweeney's eyes though; something that told me he already knew the answer, that he knew everything that was going to happen. I was able to convince myself that that was not true, that I imagined the whole thing. Besides, Sweeney always had that look.

"So it is you, Benjamin Barker," Mrs. Lovett breathed. I was beginning to grow rather bored. This whole thing, I knew it by heart. I had my own questions to ask. Careful not to brush past Mrs. Lovett for I didn't know yet if she could tell I was there or not, I moved so I was next to Sweeney. When I was, I whispered to him,

"I have to speak to you now." My voice was soft, yet stern, proving to the barber, about to be murderer, just how urgent what I had to say was. Sweeney subtly nodded, looking as if he were responding to Mrs. Lovett.

"Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you Mr. Barker," Mrs. Lovett sighed as she stood up.

"No," Sweeney snapped, facing the baker, "not Barker. That man is dead," I rolled my eyes as Sweeney spoke.

"Yes, we know," I muttered under my breath.

"It's Todd now, Sweeney Todd, and he will have his revenge," Sweeney and I said in unison. He shot a glare at me and I smirked in return. Mrs. Lovett noticed the direction of Sweeney's glare and eyed him suspiciously.

"Righ'," she nodded slowly, already thinking that perhaps this new man was a tad bit insane. "Come with me," she said suddenly, starting to leave the parlor. "I wanna show ya somethin' tha' you migh' like."

I followed the duo up the outside barber's shop stairs. The bell, though it hadn't been used for such a long while at this point, dinged softly as Mrs. Lovett opened the door, gaining entrance to the dusty shop. She wandered over to the window, kneeling down and finding a removable floorboard, revealing the hollow in the floor.

"When they came for the girl, I 'id 'em, could'a sold 'em, but I didn'." An old box was opened, showing off the gleaming razors Sweeney was oh so fond of. "Them angels is chaste silver, ain't they?"

Sweeney nodded rather gravely. "Silver, yes," he agreed, examining the blade. "My friend," Sweeney muttered. His voice so quiet, I seemed to be the only one to have heard him. I moved so I stood next to Mrs. Lovett, in front of Sweeney so he wouldn't be glaring next to him when I began tapping my foot impatiently. Sure enough, he glared at me and Mrs. Lovett looked next to her, but let it go again.

"Leave me," Sweeney commanded Mrs. Lovett quietly and she obliged like she always did. After Mrs. Lovett left the barber's shop upon Sweeney's request, I took that as my cue to talk.

"Okay, and I ask you this again, how do you know it's me?" I also wondered how he was the only one to see and hear me, but it'd be for the best to not ask all of my questions at once.

Sweeney stood up and began pacing, as if deep in thought. He kept opening and closing his razor with a simple flick of his wrist. "How did you get here?"

"I asked you first," I pointed out, earning me yet another deadly glare from the barber. I couldn't help but think to myself that this guy needed to learn other facial expressions. Sighing roughly, Sweeney let my question be the first to be answered.

"It's complicated," was all he said. Really? I was from the future, he shouldn't know me yet and all he could say was, "it's complicated"?

"Care to elaborate?" I asked with a hint of disdain, my arms crossed.

"Well, haven't we grown up into a little snob?" Sweeney sneered, putting away his razor back in the box with the others and took the box to the vanity. Aha, so he did remember me! And I was sure it was more than "complicated".

"Yes, we have," I retorted, crossing the room to stand next to the forever gloomy barber. "The only difference between _us_ is that _you_ won't answer my question properly."

Whoa wait, wait hold up! Why in the world were Sweeney and I acting like this? We never got like this with each other. Okay, okay, fine, we never got like this with each other starting about a year and a half ago.

Sweeney opened his mouth, no doubt to say some rather profound words, but shut it again, as if he was having the same thoughts as I was. He walked over to the window and sat down, leaning on the wall. "Where do you want me to start?"

"At the beginning."

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><p><strong>AN: Who's confused? Well don't you fret, as I've said previously, it will all be explained in the next chapter. Reviews appreciated. Thanks to all of you who reviewed the last chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Thanks for the reviews! This version of the story is a lot more popular than the first one. Which brings me to this next thing.**

**IMPORTANT: I am once again thinking of rewriting this. I had this brilliant idea that involved Nellie Damon waking up one day to find that she was in an alternate universe where Jamie is Sweeney's daughter, Toby and Johanna never existed and she and Sweeney never got married after being reincarnated. If I find out that anyone on fanfiction as taken this idea from me and used Jamie, I will come find you and I keel you! Not really, I was just watching Achmed on the Jeff Dunham show so yeah... I just had to say that. **

**Give me your opinion on that please! And if you want me to rewrite this (yet again) but also want to find out who the killer is in this story, PM. But please don't have me tell you the killer (if there is one) and tell everyone in a review. That's just no fun and then I'd have to change the killer (or make one if there is one)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd**

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><p>Sweeney hesitated before starting his little tale. I tried my best to look genuinely interested so he wouldn't think I wasn't listening. I sat down on the floor next to him, bringing my knees to my chest, my chin resting on my knees as I looked expectantly at Sweeney. In truth, I felt a little frightened, unsure of what I would hear.<p>

"When people… die, many different things can happen," he started, refusing to look at me and instead looking the wooden floor of the shop. "The first time I died," it felt weird to hear that, "I became a ghost along with Nellie. The second time we died," still weird to hear that, "we were reincarnated." Okay, that's great, I know that. I wanted to know what was happening now. "Now, we've been sent to different places. I've been sent back in time, Nellie… I'm not sure what's happened to her. Toby and Johanna are gone too. Johanna…" he whispered softly.

I felt rather guilty and sympathetic towards Sweeney. He had lost Johanna yet again, losing her to Judge Turpin once more. That must've been awful to live with. I put a hand on his shoulder and he glared at me, but the glare quickly melted away to form an expression of indifference. Well, better than the glare. I removed my hand from his shoulder and stood up, traipsing over to the box of razors that were still resting on the ground. I brought them over to the vanity, my finger tracing the design on the side of the box.

"You know, sometimes they still come to me," I commented quietly, looking at Sweeney for a split second before returning my attention to the razors, "whenever I get upset or really angry." Apparently this was a cause for concern and Sweeney stood up abruptly and strode over to me. He grabbed my wrist and shoved my sleeve up my arm, examining my unmarred skin. The barber studied my wrist for a minute or two before releasing me from his grasp. I smirked; Sweeney was still Sweeney, no matter what time period he was in.

"It's not a laughing matter," Sweeney warned and my smirk actually grew into a smile. Sweeney's countenance grew a bit darker at the sight of my smile. It was easy to tell that he was completely serious about what he had said. Still, I couldn't hide the smile.

"I know it's not a laughing matter. I just find it funny that you're acting so concerned," I admitted with a giggle. "You're Sweeney Todd, you don't act concern! You need to start being your moody self, like you were before I stumbled into your life. Mum is starting to notice," I pointed out. Sweeney looked at me quizzically.

"Mum?" he queried, as if he had no idea what I was talking about. Sweeney then suddenly remembered and then shook his head. "Jamie, you have to remember that it isn't Nellie downstairs," he reminded me. "Nellie's somewhere else, I don't know where. So far, no one else is here." Well, this wasn't turning out so well, was it? I was so used to calling Mrs. Lovett "mum" and now it wasn't even her.

"Well what do you s'ppose we do?" I asked. "I can't stay here forever." But I couldn't leave right away. I still had to figure out who murdered the Damons. As I spoke, Sweeney walked over to the vanity and glared at his reflection, his eyes flickering over to my reflection.

"Out," Sweeney murmured, examining his razor. I raised an eyebrow at this. It was sort of random. He turned and faced me. "Get. Out," he said in a quiet, threatening tone. I saw no choice but to obey.

As I descended the stairs, I couldn't understand what was going on. That wasn't like Sweeney. Well, it was, but if that was the Sweeney from the future, then it wasn't like him. Unless… unless of course being back in the past was turning him into his old self. This whole thing seemed so ridiculous! Maybe, just maybe this was a simple dream and I was fast asleep in my bed at Aunt Bella's or I dozed off by Cole's grave.

I needed to be somewhere where I'd be alone to think things over. However, Fleet Street was incredibly crowded and I couldn't stay in the pie shop. I still wasn't sure if Mrs. Lovett could feel me. I settled with Hyde Park, at least I could hide up in a tree there. As I walked, I was careful to avoid touching people. No one seemed to see me, a bit of a relief. The way to Hyde Park however, was an odd one and I actually couldn't remember how to get there. Panic filled me as I bumped into someone. I turned around to come face to face with a boy who didn't look much older than me and long, honey brown hair. In fact, he looked bit like Eric Hope.

The boy's expression made it clear that he was stunned. Who wouldn't be? He ran into something (ahem, someone) that wasn't there. That's when it hit me. This was Anthony Hope! He shook his head and returned to gazing at a large, fancy house. A blonde was visible in the window. Johanna, pretty little Johanna that was. So that made this Turpin's house! Oh was I going to have some fun or what?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm hoping that when I finish this story, it'll be at least 200 reviews. Seeing how popular this story is, this might easily achieved. But it can't be done without you so review, review, review! 8D Oh yeah, and I decided to have one more story after this involving Jamie. It'll be about what happened to Mrs Lovett during this time.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah no, I don't own 8(**

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><p>Anthony continued to stare at Johanna in the window, hearing her faint voice as she sang about birds and being set free. I had to admit, she was a brilliant singer, but singing did not get her anywhere. Then a high pitched voice of a beggar woman reached my ears as she pleaded for alms.<p>

"Alms, alms, for a miserable woman," the beggar pleaded and I froze on the spot. She walked up to Anthony, holding out her pleading hands for just a single alm. Anthony gave her few and she thanked him vigorously. "Thank ya sir, thank ya." The beggar was just about to turn away when Anthony stopped her.

"Could you tell me whose house this is?" Anthony queried, still staring at the large estate.

"Oh that? That'd be the great Judge Turpin's house, that is," the beggar explained. "Where he keeps his pretty little ward, J-Johanna, all locked up snug. You best not go trespassing there, or it's a good whippin' for ya, or any young man with mischief on his mind." With a rather maniacal giggle, the beggar woman started to walk away, but before she could get too far, I placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Lucy, Lucy is that you?" I questioned the beggar, knowing it was Lucy but unsure if this Lucy knew who I was. The beggar woman raised her head to look at me properly from under her bonnet. She smiled, showing off perfect teeth. Her skin was clean and her blue eyes vibrant. This was Lucy, the one who brought me here. "Lucy, why'd ya leave me?" I demanded quietly. Lucy smiled apologetically.

"Terribly sorry Jamie," she whispered, "but you know that Sweeney can see you. If he can see you, then he'll see me for sure," Lucy explained, but I was still terribly perplexed.

"Then how did Anthony see you?" This whole thing was just so confusing!

Lucy's grin widened a bit. "You see Jamie; you're looking at me, the actual me. But what you see is not what everyone else sees. They see a half crazed beggar woman with filthy skin and terrible teeth because that's how I was in this time. You however, never existed in this time, therefore no one can see you," she elucidated and I finally understood. It was hard to explain in words, but I got it. Lucy was here originally, so everyone saw her, just not the way I saw her.

"So… once I go back to the pie shop, you won't be there? So I can't ask you anything or talk to you about anything or, oh my god! I just remembered that you died! Sweeney kills you! And if you're you, then that means," my eyes widened, "you're going to die again!"

Lucy just smiled, she bloody smiled! I just reminded her that she was going to be killed yet again and she was smiling! Maybe she did belong in Bedlam…

Lucy just shook her head. "Jamie, it's not going to be like I'll feel anything. It's so quick; you don't even know you were killed." Okay, little creepy there. I glanced over to the "great" Judge Turpin's house, biting my lower lip. I couldn't be seen, but perhaps I could move things, freak out Turpin and the Beadle. Lucy noticed what I was gazing at and she chuckled light-heartedly. "Go on Jamie. Those men were bastards, ruined my life; ruined my husband's life. They deserve a bit of torment."

I grinned madly at the beggar. This was just too awesome! "Okay, but we have to meet up again because so far, I've got nothing. No suspects, no clues, nothing and this murder has to be solved," I told her with complete seriousness. Still, a little bit of fun never hurt anyone… well never hurt anyone who was causing the bit of fun.

Lucy nodded, "Of course," and she walked away, once more calling for alms in her shrill voice. With a devious grin, I turned and faced the house of Judge Turpin. Devilish thoughts were running through my head. There were so many things I could do to torment those bastards Turpin and Bamford. They deserved it, didn't they?

Anthony began walking away, singing of stealing Johanna and taking her away with him, of being sweetly buried her yellow hair. I followed him, knowing what was going to come. The main door of Turpin's house opened, revealing Turpin himself in the doorway.

"Come in lad, come in," he beckoned to Anthony, who_ stupidly _obeyed.

"Anthony, Anthony, Anthony, you _dumbass_," I reprimanded Anthony as he made his way to Judge Turpin. Though of course, if Anthony was being a dumbass, so I was for I was doing exactly what he was doing, nevertheless I had a very good reason whereas Anthony was just being a bit of an idiot.

I let Turpin and Anthony walk ahead of me as I gazed at large estate. It was dark, a tad bit gloomy though that was expected. This _was_ nineteenth century London. In the shadows lurked Beadle Bamford and I scowled. If only I could be heard, I would whisper into his ear so many threatening things and it would be hilarious to see him freak out because "no one" would be there. Still, there were plenty of other things I could do.

I stepped into the room where Anthony and Turpin stood. The two drank, talked about the "wonders of the world" though it was more of Turpin droning on and on about them, Anthony listening intently until the conversation became uncomfortable.

"You gander at my ward yes sir, you gander," Turpin accused Anthony and the younger of the two men looked at the older with widened eyes.

"I-I meant no harm," Anthony insisted quietly.

"You're meaning is immaterial," Turpin mocked and got uncomfortably close to Anthony. "Mark me," I took this as my chance to jump in. I sauntered over to the bookshelf that held such inappropriate things and pulled a few off the shelves, letting them drop to the floor with a clatter. I jumped back as Turpin whirled around.

He studied the books that fell to the floor and scrutinized the bookshelf. "What the…" he trailed off, blatantly unsure of what to say. He turned back to Anthony, about to continue when I did it once more, just pulling the books off of the shelves. I walked over to the desk and brought my arm across the surface, knocking off everything, ink splattering everywhere. I gave a triumph grin which grew even wider when I saw the Beadle step in on the scene, his mouth agape. Score one for the invisible girl!

Anthony just sat there, stiff as a log. He was hardly even blinking! I snapped my fingers in front of his face but received no reaction. So I went over to the puddle of ink and dipped my finger in the substance and knelt down in front of the sailor. I spelled out "Get out Anthony" and his eyes became even wider, if possible. He nodded, as if he could see me, though he couldn't, and left the place as fast as he could. With a less hastened pace, I followed, breathing in the (somewhat) clean air when I stepped outside, jubilation coursing through my veins.

I broke into a run, trying my best to avoid people for I now knew I could make contact with anything physically tangible. I arrived at 186 Fleet Street in a matter of moments and burst into the barber's shop to find Sweeney pacing, occasionally stopping to look out the window. At my sudden arrival, he turned on his heels to face me.

"Where have you been?" he asked in an ominous tone of voice and I smirked.

"Oh you'll be so proud of me when I tell you what I did," I said, beaming with a hint of an evil tone.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you all so much for the reviews! I really appreciate the feedback. And if you like "Alice in Wonderland, 2010" I wrote a story called The Rose's Thorn. It's a rewrite of Allison in Wonderland. It's the last story on my profile until I update again. The next update for this story may not be for a while since I'm starting to have writer's block. I know how I want this story to go, I just don't know how to put it in words. Wish me luck!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd.**

**Sweeney: You're damn right you don't**

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><p>Sweeney stared at me with an incredulous look after I relayed my little adventure to him. I didn't really blame him, it didn't sound like the truth. But it was, and I was pretty damn proud of what I had done.<p>

"James," he sighed roughly, running a hand through his hair. "You can't do stupid stuff like that, it'll get you into a lot of trouble." I rolled my eyes. Here it was the "don't do that again" talk. I used to get that all of the time when I was younger. Not really listening to Sweeney, I started fingering my locket. I still wore it, hardly ever took it off except when necessary. Sweeney took notice.

"The locket," he commented, idly pointing at it with his razor. I stepped back; I really didn't like it when murderers pointed weapons at me. Not that that's happened often of course. "You still wear it." It wasn't a question, he knew. He knew I still wore it.

"Yeah," I said with a bit of a nod, "yeah I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Sweeney gave a half shrug. "Just… odd," he commented and started his usual pacing in front of the window. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

"Alright then," I shrugged, not really seeing the point to all of that. I traipsed over to the middle of the room. I was used to seeing the barber's chair there, but that point in time hadn't been reached yet. Soon though, I was aware of, very soon. "Is it safe to say that while I was out, you didn't murder Pirelli?" I asked just to be cautious.

Sweeney looked at me, his head slightly cocked to one side and I realized he had no idea what I was talking about. This was odd; if Sweeney was still the Sweeney I knew, he should know what I was talking about. Yet he didn't. "Dad, Pirelli, the 'street mountebank', remember?" My eyes slightly grew wider in concern.

Sweeney's brow furrowed in confusion; he then recalled what I was talking about. "Oh right, no I haven't gotten to him yet."

This wasn't good, I could tell already. Sweeney couldn't remember Pirelli and he was starting to act like his old self. I didn't like where this was heading, but didn't know how to stop it. Suddenly, Mum walked in. No, I shook my head, she wasn't Mum; this was Mrs. Lovett from another life. It was all so confusing!

"C'mon luv," she said to Sweeney, completely ignoring me, "we're off to the market. Someone there I want ya to meet," she explained and walked off to get ready to go to St. Dunstan's Market.

This was certain to be interesting, especially now that I was around. I knew how to mess with people now and since I knew Pirelli's secret, I knew how to exact my revenge in a less violent way than Sweeney. I wouldn't stop Sweeney from killing Pirelli, the fraud deserved it. Or did he? If I stopped Sweeney from making his first kill, would it make a difference? Oh wait, duh it would. But would it be so bad? I didn't think so. I was stopping a murderer.

Sweeney placed his razor in his holster and grabbed his jacket, ready to face the crowded streets of St. Dunstan's Market. I followed Sweeney out of the shop, whistling a made up tune. "Will you stop with that horrid noise?" he asked of me and I rolled my eyes. He was being such a git! Not acting at all like the Sweeney I knew. Could it be that his past self was starting to take over? It made sense since this _was_ the past.

Mrs. Lovett waited at the bottom of the steps, having not heard what Sweeney had said to me, thank god. "Alrigh' I trust tha' ya remember St. Dunstan's Market, Mistah T?" she asked, adjusting her fedora. Sweeney merely nodded and began walking in the direction of the market, not breaking his stride.

"Wait up, would ya?" I called after him, struggling to keep up with the soon-to-be Demon Barber of Fleet Street. He disregarded me, acting like I wasn't there. At first, I was a bit offended, but quickly realized that it was for the best since Mrs. Lovett was walking not far behind Sweeney, only a few feet and he needn't be shipped off to Bedlam, not when he had his revenge to be exacted. Though I doubted Mrs. Lovett would ship Sweeney off to Bedlam for talking to someone who wasn't there. She may not have been Mum, but she was still Nellie Lovett who fancied Sweeney Todd undoubtedly.

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><p>The market was crowded, sellers calling out how wonderful their products were, passersby stopping to see for themselves. One caravan stood amongst the commotion and I knew exactly whose caravan it was. Sure enough, Tobias Ragg stepped out onto the scene with his drum.<p>

"'E's 'ere every Thursday, best barber in London, goes by the name of Pirelli," Mrs. Lovett told Sweeney discreetly. Sure enough, Toby started banging on his drum, calling the attention of almost half of the people in the market.

"Ladies an' gentlemen, a miracle it is!" he announced happily. "A man, Pirelli by name, best barber in London an' 'is miracle elixir is 'ere!" Toby's grin fooled the crowd easily. "Is your 'air fallin' out? Well fret no longer! For Pirelli's Miracle Elixir will fix ya in a tick sir, yes it's true!"

The crowd chattered happily amongst themselves, amazed by the so-called "miracle" elixir. A bottle was being passed around, some men trying it for themselves, believing every word Toby told them. I had to admit, he was very convincing. The bottle was passed to Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett and they looked at each other in disgust, as if thinking the same thing. Piss and ink was all it was.

"This is merely a concoction of piss and ink!" Sweeney announced and the crowd that had gathered around the caravan looked at him in surprise, wondering how he could dare say such a thing about a product made by the best barber in London. And right on cue, Pirelli showed up in his shocking blue clothes.

"Bonjourno ladies and gentlemen, I am the magnificent Signor Pirelli. Now, who 'as dared to-a say that my elixir is piss!" he demanded and Sweeney stepped forward.

"I did," he said idly, making his way through the crowd. "I am Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street. I have opened a bottle of your elixir and I say to you that it is nothing more than piss and ink." He kept calm, was very collected. For a brief moment, his eyes flickered over to me, but quickly turned back to Pirelli.

Pirelli gave a wicked grin. "You hear this-a foolish man? You will see how he will regret-a his-a folly!" Pirelli announced, throwing aside his cape. I gulped, knowing what was coming.

The showdown was about to begin.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the long update. Thanks for the review! I'm glad so many people like this story! Anyway, Drama club is already getting pretty intense (I got the lead role. I'm Annie in Annie Jr.!) So the next update maybe a little bit of wait. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd**

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><p>I waited with baited breath, as did Mrs. Lovett. The shave off, I knew what was to happen after this. Pirelli would recognize Sweeney and it would end in a bit of a blood bath, Sweeney being the one bathing in Pirelli's blood.<p>

Pirelli went off into his speech about how amazing he was, shaving the pope, intent of mocking Sweeney and degrading him. But the glint of determination in Sweeney's eye told me that he would not submit to such a ridiculous street mountebank.

I kept running through what would happen in my head and before knew it, the loud whistle of Beadle Bamford pierced through the crisp air. I cringed at the sound, the only one who seemed to be fazed by the noise. "The winner…" the Beadle began, keeping everyone at suspense though it was apparent who had won, "is Todd." The crowd clapped, a devious look upon Mrs. Lovett's face, like she knew all along that it would be Sweeney to succeed.

Sweeney was about to walk off the podium when he was stopped by Pirelli. I caught tidbits of their conversation and Sweeney walked away, meeting up with Mrs. Lovett at the bottom of the small staircase. She handed him his jacket and that's when I just noticed Toby being beaten. I felt anger rising up inside of me. He was just an innocent lad, he was practically my brother. I couldn't stand by while that happened. I looked to Sweeney, but he seemed intent on ignoring me. Deciding to not say a word, I jumped up to the raised platform and crept over to Toby, careful to avoid bumping into anything now that I knew I could move things. There was the sound of leather against skin and I peeked inside the caravan to see Toby huddled in one of the corners, hands out and knuckles up, Pirelli looking infuriated with the leather strop in his hand.

I felt this anger bubbling up inside of me. How dare he? How dare he treat an innocent in such a manner? I suddenly felt something cold, hard, and familiar in my hand. I looked down and saw that it was a razor, one of Sweeney's. I could just imagine the look upon his face as he realizes that one of his friends had yet again gone missing. But I couldn't slit Pirelli's throat. He would drop dead in front of Toby with no known cause. And that would mess everything up in the timeline. But perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea… but I couldn't use a razor, no. Strangulation on the other hand didn't seem like such a bad idea.

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><p>Sweeney walked alongside Mrs. Lovett on the way back to the pie shop, ignoring every word she said. He didn't feel like listening. If this was the Nellie he knew, he would've at least attempted to listen to her, but this wasn't his Nellie, this wasn't his wife. This was merely his soon-to-be partner in crime who would in the end cease to live. He finally gave in to his urge and reached to his holster to take out his silver companion, only to find it wasn't there. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, but he did not let Mrs. Lovett see him with emotion.<p>

He hadn't had dropped his razor, had he? No, Sweeney specifically remembered putting it in his holster. Then where had it… that's when it hit him. Jamie, she had mentioned that the razors still came to her sometimes, yet she somehow managed to hide it well. She was such a strange girl; Sweeney knew he'd never be able to figure her out. But that was beside the point. The point was that Jamie now held one of his razors and he knew how she sometimes got when given a bit of power, a bit of control. He could only silently hope that she had learned her lesson.

Mrs. Lovett looked over to Sweeney, having asked his opinion on something and he hadn't answered. She raised an eyebrow in questioning. "Mistah T, are ya listenin' to me?" she asked, having a feeling that he wasn't. Of course Sweeney wasn't, but he now knew how to handle such situations having dealt with it all before.

"Yes, I am," he answered, looking at Mrs. Lovett briefly before continuing to stare at the ground he walked upon. This experience was rather painful, like it was when it was all done the first time. Could he just… kill her and have it all be over with? She was going to end up dead anyway…

No, Jamie would not appreciate that and an angry Jamie with a razor was a harbinger that nothing good was going to happen. Sweeney sighed quietly, contemplating on how to handle the rest of the day before Pirelli and that insufferable Toby came.

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><p>I chewed my bottom lip in thought, trying to figure out how to do this without freaking out Toby too much. I remembered reading something about possession and a certain form of it. If I was the ghost now, in a matter of speaking, then it could work. I wouldn't take over Pirelli's body, but control it by whispering things into his ear. Oppression I think it was…<p>

Deciding to give it a try, I went right up to Pirelli's side and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Tell the boy to go outside and start packing up," I commanded. Pirelli got this look on his face like he was in a trance; his eyes were glazed over and it seemed like he was sleepwalking.

"Toby!" Pirelli barked in his actual accent, "go outside and tidy up."

Toby's eyes were wide in fear but scrambled to his feet and went out to finish cleaning up from the contest. I knew there wouldn't be much time and had to act fast!

"Okay, now you see that leather strop in your hand?" Pirelli looked down at it. "Wrap it around your neck a few times." Pirelli (stupidly) did as he was told, though it wasn't like he had much of a choice. I couldn't help but think that this was rather funny, commanding Pirelli to kill himself. "And pull hard. Don't stop until you feel your breath leave your body." He really wouldn't have much of choice but to stop then since he would be dead.

I stepped in front of Pirelli, watching him choke himself. I couldn't help but smirk rather evilly when his eyes started to roll in the back of his head. His face went a little red, and then blue, then he went pale and dropped to the floor, dead.

That was when it hit me. I could change things, alter events.

I could change the past.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait. Hopefully next time the wait won't be so long.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd. I wish I did... that'd be cool. I want my own personal Turpin! o.o did I just say that aloud...?**

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><p>With this new information, I felt this certain excitement bubble up inside of me. I could save Sweeney, I could save Lucy! This was fantabulous! Without another moment's hesitation, I turned on my heels and began to race away, only to stop abruptly and turn back around. Toby; I couldn't leave him when there was a dead body in the caravan.<p>

"Signor! I'm done tidyin' up!" Toby called as he stood up to head back into the caravan. Shit, shit, shit, shit! This was not good; he was going to see the dead body of Pirelli. What to do? I was panicking knowing that I had to act fast and I never did well under pressure. Think, Jamie, think… I looked down to my right and saw a small rock on the ground. With rapid movements, I picked it up and threw it at the back of the head of a passerby. He spun around on his heels and glared at me. No, he wasn't, he couldn't see me. He was glaring at Toby. Yes, my plan worked!

"Oi! Wot you think you're doin'?" the man demanded, starting to stalk towards Toby.

"Uh-oh," I heard Toby say quietly as he recognized the immediate danger. He broke off into a run and the man followed, but only at a quick paced walk. I felt bad for putting Toby through that kind of trouble, but he wasn't dumb, he knew how to get out of these situations, I was sure of it. Besides, it was either that or traumatize the lad.

Now that that had been settled, I went back to 186 Fleet Street, forgetting the current situation I was in at the moment, and strode right through the front door.

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><p>Mrs. Lovett sighed roughly as she tidied up from the day of work. A worthless day of work it had been. No customers as usual of course. She was beginning to wonder why she even bothered. Suddenly, her hopes rose a bit when she heard the ding of the bell, but when she turned around, no one was in sight. Feeling a little muddled, she returned to her work. Doing all of this worthless drudgery was beginning to get to her head, she decided.<p>

The sound of footsteps was heard coming from upstairs. The same footsteps she had been hearing for most of the day. Sweeney should consider himself lucky. If Nellie didn't love him so much, she'd be fed up with noise. But it was quite the opposite. She loved the sound of his footsteps. It was soothing.

A clatter of chairs brought Mrs. Lovett from her thoughts back to reality. She looked over the counter and saw that a few chairs in the shop had been moved, as if someone had run into them. Curious, Mrs. Lovett moved around the counter and went over to the chairs. They definitely were not in that position before; the dust on the floor gave that away. Something very odd was going on…

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><p>Shit, ow, that hurt! I could not believe that I was that stupid to run into the chairs! I was sneaking around them so well and then BAM! I really had to work on my sneaking skills otherwise this wouldn't work out at all.<p>

I had completely forgotten that I couldn't be seen or heard unless I moved other objects. I had to find a way to sneak out of the pie shop and go up to the barber's shop without Mrs. Lovett noticing… there was no chance of that happening; she was suspicious now, or just thinking she was going crazy. Either way, I was screwed. Hm… perhaps I'd be able to walk through walls? Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett were able to do with when I lived with them two years ago. Doing my best not to run into anything again, I snuck upstairs to Sweeney's bedroom seeing as it was right next to the barber's shop.

The bedroom looked no different than how it would look in the future. Why would it? From my knowledge, Sweeney barely slept at all anyway. I pressed my ear to the wall to see if I could hear anything and I did: Sweeney pacing… again. _He really needs a new hobby, _I thought to myself as I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to get through the wall. Just walk through it? That seemed a bit too simple… but it was worth a shot.

It didn't work of course. Making a face of deep thinking, I decided to try a really stupid idea. I backed up and ran at the wall full speed. It didn't work and now I was in pain. Why I was in pain I didn't know why. Then I remembered two years ago when I accidently made Sweeney bleed. Mrs. Lovett had said that "life's funny like that." Yeah, funny.

Okay, so obviously just walking through the wall wouldn't work and neither would running at it. There had to be a way to do this. Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett did it, so why couldn't I? I didn't dare trying running at the wall again, but I did tap on it a few times, as if in Morse code (but I didn't know Morse code). Surprisingly, I heard someone tapping in return: Sweeney. I grinned and tapped again, only to receive more tapping in response. If it was Morse code, I had no clue as to what we were communicating. Finally I just gave up on the tapping and shouted, "How do I get through the freakin' wall?" I awaited an answer that seemed to take forever. And I waited forever to hear only one word,

"Concentrate."

So I shut my eyes tightly, leaned against the wall and concentrated really hard. A little too hard; my head started to ache. So I decided to do something smart and concentrate a little less. I felt this odd sensation spread through me and the next thing I knew, I was falling through the wall and crashed to the floor of the barber's shop.

"Ow," I moaned as I stood up and rubbed my head to soothe the minor pain. Sweeney smirked and I made a face.

He took out his razor and started to sharpen it. I rolled my eyes; he seriously needed some new hobbies. "Well, what have you done now James?" he asked, acting a bit disinterested though I knew at heart he was intrigued. "And hurry up why don't you? Pirelli is due to arrive any mo-"

"You don't need to worry about him," I interrupted. "He had a little… accident." As I said those words, there was a sudden chill in the air and a murderous glint in Sweeney's eyes. He stopped sharpening his silver companion and raised it a bit.

"What. Did. You. Do?" he questioned in a dark, threatening voice. I gulped, now feeling like what I had done was not good after all.

"Pirelli, he's erm, dead," I explained, feeling incredibly uneasy. I gave a sheepish grin, as if that would help matters. It didn't.

Next thing I knew, I was being pinned against the wall, Sweeney's razor to my throat. I was awfully confused. Why was he so upset? He wasn't a murderer; he didn't have to worry about his secret getting out.

"D-dad," I choked out, feeling the pain as Sweeney dug his razor into my skin. "You're- you're hurting me." This did nothing though. I felt the warm beads of blood form as the razor broke my skin. I wasn't sure if I could actually die or not, but at this point, I really felt like Sweeney was going to kill me. "Dad, please," I begged, his hand that was pinning me against the wall moving to hold my throat. My oxygen was cut off; I couldn't breathe!

The next thing I felt was pain and a warm wetness covering my front as Sweeney dragged his razor across my throat.

Everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, but Drama club takes up a lot of my free time. But I am not dead! Here's chapter ten. I'm sorry to say that I may be finishing this up real soon...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd**

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><p>My eyes fluttered open, my body cold and my head pounding. I groaned as I tried to get up from the floor. I was too weak though and slumped back down on the ground. There was a loud noise, yet silence all at once. I was dead, this was me dead and now all the demons of hell have come to torment me.<p>

"Get up," a voice barked. I vaguely recognized it and refused to do what it told me. I was in no position to even open my eyes. I groaned in protest, my throat burning and my stomach churned. Something was gently nudging my side and I turned over to lie on my back. I was reminded of how I was when I was younger, I wouldn't want to get up for school and would act the same way.

"Get up," the voice commanded again and once more, the sound struck me as familiar. My eyes shot open when realization hit. Sweeney, it was his voice. Blinking a few times to clear my vision, I saw the demon barber standing over me, once more gently nudging me on the side with his foot. Gathering all of my strength (at least what was left) I sat up, resisting the urge to retch.

"What happened?" I mumbled my throat ablaze. Then it all came back to me. Sweeney had sliced my throat, had killed me! Well he_ tried _to kill me. "What the hell is your problem?" I demanded, ignoring the pain and sickness that flooded me.

Sweeney's countenance did not change. In fact, he seemed more nonchalant and relaxed than before. "I could ask you the same thing," he muttered before simply walking away to pace in front of the window. Anger was beginning to bubble up inside of me. Sweeney just tried to bloody murder me and he was acting like it was no big deal. At least I knew for sure I couldn't die.

"What do you mean, 'I could ask you the same thing'?" questioned I as I managed to rise to my feet and step over to him.

He sighed roughly, momentarily hesitating his pacing. "What the hell are you doing changing the past?" he corrected quietly, not meeting my eyes. It was then that it dawned on me that perhaps changing the past wasn't such a good idea, at least not without permission first.

"Saving your life," I shot back, crossing my arms. "Think about it: if I change the past, then you won't die, and neither will Mum." My actions seemed perfectly reasonable, and my explanation was perfectly viable. Not according to Sweeney though as it turned out.

He sighed roughly and turned on his heels to face me. "Jamie, do know anything?" he asked, the amount of harshness in his voice hurting a bit. "Changing the past will change the future. I thought you were smarter than this, I thought you actually had a brain to think these things through, stupid girl."

That was it; that was the final straw. I was fed up with the insults, though there hadn't been that many. But to hear it from Sweeney, it pained me and I wasn't going to put up with such verbal abuse. "Fine, be that way. I won't interfere anymore, I'll just let you and Nellie and Lucy die," I spat and left the shop quickly, muttering dark and evil things under my breath as I started to leave the shop. I felt him tug on my arm, but I pulled away. He grabbed me again and I couldn't resist; his grip was too strong.

"James, stop," he commented in a less harsh tone than what he had been using. Still, I wouldn't let him win this dispute. I supposed that when I mentioned Lucy dying again made Sweeney stop and think about what was to come.

"And why should I? Just continue you on with your life and your killing." I tried tugging away, but Sweeney just tightened his grasp. We stared into each other's eyes, hardly blinking, as if it were some absurd staring contesting.

Sweeney loosened his grip on my arm, his gaze still hard and a bit cold. "We have to work together to get out of this. We have to get things back to normal." I couldn't help but agree with him. "And," Sweeney added, "I don't kill anyone until after Pirelli, recall?"

Oh… right, I forgot about that. I had read Sweeney's biography and he told me about his past when I asked, and now that Pirelli was dead, the "business" would never start. This could be seen as good or bad. It changed the past drastically, but saved a lot of lives. "Alright, but you can still get to the Judge," I pointed out. "Now all we have to do is plan."

And plan we did. Sweeney paced while I sat; I paced while Sweeney sharpened his razors. Occasionally a customer would come in and we'd return to our routine until someone else interrupted. All seemed to be going well with the planning except for one thing: we didn't have a plan.

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><p>Mrs. Lovett glanced up to the ceiling, hearing the sound of Sweeney Todd pacing as she leaned against the counter, not bothering to whip up another batch of horrible pies. She would never get out of her debt. Sweeney was having much better luck than her. She wouldn't dare ask him for some money though. That'd be rude and he'd think her pathetic, which he might already think her to be.<p>

Oh if he could only see how much she loved him. Just one kiss, one little bit of acknowledgement would mean the world to her. But he was always up in that shop of his, never eating the food she brought up for him, talking to himself, as if someone else was there with him.

But that was crazy of course. It was just him. No one was sneaking up to his shop; Nellie would've noticed someone, and besides, they wouldn't be able to get away by the time she reached Sweeney's shop. Maybe he was going crazy; maybe she was going crazy?

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><p>I sighed quietly, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans. All of the hours of planning and coming up with nothing were getting to be quite dull. And Sweeney was in one his moods, the one where he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. I muttered that I was going down to the pie shop and Sweeney did nothing to stop me.<p>

So I snuck down the stairs and into the pie shop, remembering to walk right through the door instead of opening it. There was Mrs. Lovett leaning against the counter, looking as bored as ever. But then her expression changed to one of surprise as she stared… right at me.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Bit of a lengthy chapter, Yay! Sorry it's been so long but i had the worst case of writer's block. I also wanted to spend a lot of time on my Into the Woods fic, "Stay with Me" and get ahead of the game by writing the chapters ahead of time. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd.**

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><p>Alarm and dread filled me. Mrs. Lovett was staring right at me, as if she could see me. I didn't say anything. I thought she couldn't hear me anyway. And if she suddenly could, I wouldn't know what to say. She was still Eleanor Lovett, but she wasn't Mum. If I mentioned anything from the past, um, future, it wouldn't make sense to her.<p>

Paralyzed like a statue, I stood my ground, unable to move anyway. I tensed up when Mrs. Lovett started walking over to me. She seemed confused, as if she wasn't sure if she was seeing what she was really seeing. I wouldn't have been surprised if she could hear my heart racing, pounding in my chest. With her brow furrowed, she shut the door, hand passing right through me. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Can't hear me still can you?" I asked, beginning to laugh. I didn't find the situation funny (actually I did a little bit) but the laughing couldn't be helped. It was a laugh of liberation, a way of making me calm down. Shaking my head and still giggling quietly, I sat in one of the booths, resting my feet on the table.

"You know, this is very interesting," I continued, watching Mrs. Lovett start to tidy up, though I hardly saw a chance of the place becoming completely clean. Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett's eyes widened, as if she heard something odd. Again, panic filled me.

"Who said tha'?" she asked the seemingly empty air. I was so taken off guard and shocked that I almost fell out of the booth. She looked around and merely shrugged it off as she saw no customers, didn't see me, which I was highly thankful for. But how long would my luck last?

Mrs. Lovett's heart was thudding just a bit. She had heard the strangest noise, like someone was talking, but there was no one in the shop other than her. It certainly hadn't been Toby. The lad wasn't around and the voice had sounded feminine. She did her best to forget the whole thing happened, yet the feeling of not being alone lingered. It bothered her greatly.

Still, the woman just went on about her business, ignoring the fact that she could've sworn she was seeing someone out of the corner of her eye. Just a silhouette would appear, and when she turned to look at it straight on, it would vanish. But it always appeared in the same place and looked just the same. A girl, a teenager, sitting in one of the booths, dressed in strange clothing. "You've finally lost it, Nellie," Eleanor chided herself, shaking her head slightly. Just then, the strangest thing happened. Mister Sweeney Todd from upstairs came down.

I slightly gulped at the sight of Dad. His presence, though I was used to it, was still a bit scary. Perhaps it was the fact that I was in gloomy Victorian London and he was actually killing people, not just ghosts going through a continuous cycle.

He shot me a somewhat harsh glare and I couldn't figure out why. Probably from my stupidity in the past, but it seemed like a fresh anger. Sweeney Todd sat beside me and leaned close, though not making it obvious. As quietly as he could, he whispered, "She's beginning to see you."

The statement left me feeling confused and a little frightened. Mrs. Lovett was beginning to see me? The state of affairs started to remind me of Back to the Future, only in reverse. Instead of starting to disappear because I was never born, I was beginning to appear because I was spending too much time in that era. Only one sentence was running and repeating through my mind: _I'm screwed_.

With careful movements, I slid out of the booth and as quietly as I could possibly manage, I snuck over to the stairs that led up to the room that Benjamin Barker and Lucy Barker once shared. I pointed to the staircase and mouthed: "Meet me when you can." Sweeney gave a curt nod and I was very surprised to find that he actually understood what I had mouthed. Without any other exchange, I bolted up the stairs, not really caring at this point if my footsteps could be heard or not. I was panicking too much to be bothered with such a petty factor at this point in time.

When I entered the bedroom, there stood Lucy in the corner, not as the beggar woman, but fully refreshed and looking elegant. "Lucy?" I asked in disbelief and she nodded, not looking so happy. "But I thought you could only appear as a beggar?"

"She's dead," Lucy stated laconically. "Died in an alley; the beggar Lucy is gone." I was becoming thoroughly befuddled. So Lucy was now dead, the beggar woman no longer living in her torment of insanity. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." And she vanished.

Her tone of voice, it scared me. It was full of disdain and the look in her eyes was one I knew well. She had a thirst for revenge.

"The bake house Ben," I suddenly heard Lucy's voice say. She was downstairs in the pie shop, obviously talking to Sweeney. Why was she doing that? I thought she didn't want to be seen! Things were definitely taking a turn for the weirdest. I raced back down the stairs to see what was going on.

Lucy was standing right next to Sweeney, who had stood up from his seat. "She did this to me Ben, you know that. _She_," Lucy pointed to Mrs. Lovett, "killed me!"

This I knew to be a lie. Mrs. Lovett didn't kill anyone, just lied about it. "She poisoned me Ben. Avenge the wrongdoing. Go to the bake house!"

Sweeney didn't look like himself. His eyes were glazed over, as if he was being possessed by Lucy's words. He turned to Mrs. Lovett then, who hadn't notice a thing that was happening. "Mrs. Lovett, there's something I need to talk to you about in the bake house." His voice was firm, showing that Mrs. Lovett couldn't get out of it.

"Oh, alrigh' then Mistah T," Mrs. Lovett consented, setting aside the knife she had been using. She walked around the counter, casually wiping her hands on her dress to brush off the excess flour. Sweeney led the way into the bake house; Lucy didn't follow immediately. She was too busy relishing the moment, though I couldn't see why.

"Lucy, what are you doing?" I demanded, and the blonde calmly turned to me.

"I'm doing what should have been done the first time." And with that, she vanished, to the bake house I presumed. Fully-fledged with apprehension, I went full speed towards the bake house, almost tripping when I raced down the stairs. I went through the door, not wanting to waste time with opening it.

The bake house was dimly lit, Sweeney standing in front of Mrs. Lovett, Mrs. Lovett's back to the oven. My stomach started to twist with nervousness. Lucy was standing next to the oven and managed to open it, revealing the hungry flames.

"Do it Ben! She ruined our lives, was the one to kill me! If it weren't for her, I'd be alive now," Lucy said to Sweeney as she crossed over to him, taking the spot right next to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You know what to do Benjamin. Kill her!"

Sweeney, still in his seemingly possessed state of mind, placed his arms on Mrs. Lovett's shoulders, backed her up towards the oven, and with one swift movement, pushed her in.

Screams of bloody terror filled my ears as I watched Mrs. Lovett burn, completely horrified. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucy grin triumphantly. Then it all clicked. Right then, it all clicked.

"It was you!" I declared, Sweeney not hearing me in his current state. "You were the one that killed the Damons!" Why couldn't I have seen it before? I felt so stupid and blind now that I actually figured it out. I wasn't exactly clear on why though. "What did they do to you?"

Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes. "It wasn't so much as what _they_ did to me; it was more of what _she_ did to me. She lied to my husband, making him think I was dead, got to stay here on earth with him after they were both deceased, and then married him when reincarnated. He was _my _husband first, he loved me first! Why did _she_ get to the happy ending then?"

I had no answer to that. I couldn't lie, Lucy had a point. Why Mrs. Lovett? But the rebuttal in my mind was "why not Mrs. Lovett?" She may have "lied" but she took care of Sweeney when he came back from Botany Bay, helped him achieve his revenge, was there when Lucy wasn't.

"You just don't understand," Lucy declared, as if reading my mind. "And I'm afraid you never will be given the chance to fully comprehend." She whipped her head around to look at Sweeney. "Ben!" As if he already knew what to do, Sweeney turned on me and strode right up to me.

His cold hand grasped my throat as I was backed against the wall. I stared into his eyes, silently begging him to snap out of it. I had no luck and the sharp sting of the chill given off by the razor upon my neck made me flinch. I didn't know what I was so worried about; I couldn't die. There was a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach though, one that I desperately wanted to go away.

"Dad," I quietly pleaded, my voice breaking. I was hoping that it would be just like the movies, where at the last minute the possessed person came to his or her senses and turned against the one who had been controlling them. This was not the movies though; Sweeney wouldn't come to his senses and I would not be waking up. In the blink of an eye, Sweeney slit my throat and I fell to the floor, life leaking from my neck. The last thing I saw was Lucy walking over to Sweeney, who was still in his hazy state of mind, grinning sadistically.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Last chapter! Thank you so much for sticking through with this fic despite the many delays in updates. But the ending is finally here! Keep a look out for my next new story. It will be a Sweeney Todd and Into the Woods crossover guest starring Jamie!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd D :**

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><p>My head was pounding and when I dared to open my eyes, I was greeted with a blinding white light. Was that where I was? Was I in The Light? If I was, why the hell was beeping noises? My vision began to clear and when I could finally see properly, I met the sight of an EKG monitor and an IV drip. A hospital, I was in a hospital.<p>

Groaning, I turned to my side to see the face of my Aunt Bella. She grinned brightly and immediately stood up from the chair she was seated in and knelt by my side. "Hey there sweetie," she said kindly, moving the hair out of my face. "How are you feeling?"

I moaned in discomfort as a response. "What happened?" I choked out, my voice raspy. My throat was on fire and was incredibly dry, like a desert.

"You were at the pie shop and fell down the stairs," Aunt Bella explained in a voice so soft that I struggled to hear her. "I came back to because you left your iPod and I figured you wanted that, and found you at the bottom of the stairs out cold."

This news puzzled me. I've been in the hospital the whole time? "The Damons," I suddenly said. Did that mean that they weren't really dead if my adventure never happened?

Aunt Bella's solemn look told me the truth before she got any words out. "They're gone honey. Don't you remember?"

Surprisingly I wasn't as sad about hearing that twice as I thought I'd be. Unlike Sweeney, I could move on. Besides, I got to see Mum, Toby and Dad again, even if it was just in my head. That was better than never seeing them again.

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><p>I stood before the graves of the Damons, hands in the pocket of my zip up sweatshirt. I had been released from the hospital just the day before, and after pleading with Aunt Bella, I was allowed to leave my bed and go outside to visit the cemetery.<p>

"Well, I figured it out," I told the headstones, pretending that the Damons could hear me. "I feel like an idiot though." How could I have not seen that it had been Lucy? Then again, I thought she moved on, or was at least damned to hell. But a thought was still bothering me. If Lucy managed to kill the Damons, that meant she was still around. So where was she?

"Thought you could get rid of me that easily, huh?" Lucy's voice asked me and I whirled around to face the blonde woman. She gave an evil smirk as she stepped forward. Anger surged through me. It was because of her that the Damons, my friends and family, were dead. I felt a slight weight in my pocket, a familiar feeling.

"You bitch!" I shouted, glad that no one else was around. They'd think I was mental for sure! My hand twitched a bit at the proverbial feel of cold silver. In a flash of an instant, I whipped out the razor and made a quick slice to Lucy's throat.

Her eyes were wide in shock, not expecting that to happen obviously. Instead of blood, her neck leaked a golden, shimmering light. It was like when the Judge was killed again a few years ago. Lucy was being damned to hell like she deserved.

When her image finally deteriorated, I closed my eyes and let out a long, slow breath. It was over with. Finally, it was all over with.

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><p>My clock read midnight and I finally decided to put my book away. I felt like I'd be able to sleep easily despite all that had happened. I turned off my lamp and settled in the bed, curling up underneath the blankets.<p>

I fell asleep almost immediately and an image started to materialize. I was in a meadow, the sun beginning to set as the sky started to turn from pink to the dark blue of the night sky. There was a small crowd of people on a hill; it was the Damons, all looking so happy. They waved farewell to me for the last time and I waved goodbye back. I felt myself tear up but did not allow myself to cry.

The Damons started to disappear and I wanted to go after them, but held back. They were happy now, all was well and there would be no more drama. It felt like a fairytale. After so many years, we all got our happy ending.


End file.
